


A collection of badly written terrible terror PWPs

by orphan_account



Category: The Terror (2018 TV series), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Smut, Hate Sex, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-29 03:02:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14463585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The terror is filled with depressed boys just wanting to get it on, Why not let em have it.





	1. Goodsir/Fitzjames

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry

"Ok, but we really must hurry." Harry looked down at James. The closeness of the closet made harry sweat a little. James smirked in half reassurance, half mischief. He stroked his thick thigh as Harry undid the buttons on his pants. He shoved them down, freeing his now far more noticeable bulge. The semi-hard tent in his own britches made harry blush deeper. 

James cursed the cold for making a man wear so many layers. He huffed impatiently. Finally, Harry was down to his briefs. He began hooking his thumbs in the hem before James placed his hands over Harry's.

"O-oh, I suppose you'd like to do this bit." Harry whispered. It was clear by the way his brows were furrowed and the volume of his voice that he really really did not want to be caught. Too bad, james thought, he was going to make the sweet doctor moan for him. 

"Very observant" James poked. He resumed his work, slowly sliding the fabric down Harry's legs. Harry sighed as his growing erection was freed. He leaned back on whatever stacked boxes in the closet, gripped the corner and braced himself. In his (fairly short) history of sexual encounters, he always felt his knees go out at some point. Stumbling to the ground in a tiny closet was going to be a conspicuous chaos that Harry desperately wanted to avoid. 

James scoffed at the sight of Harry’s cock. It was much larger than he expected. The juvenile spirit in him was panged at the realization that it was probably bigger than his own. 

James spit in his hand and wrapped it around the base of Harry's prick. Slowly, torturously slowly, he stroked him. He stroked back to his tip and rubbed a quick, teasing circle into Harry's slit, making him twitch and gasp. His thumb pressed the vein on his underside as he stroked back down his shaft. All the while, James never took his eyes off of Harry's face. Harry had trouble making eye contact even in the driest of situations, but even now he would make the effort of glancing down at James. Soon enough, his cock hardened to full mast. 

"Do you like this? Hm?" James teased. He stroked faster, making harry squirm. Precum dripped lightly onto James's sleeve.

"Y-yes Captain." Harry breathed. 

"Show me. Moan for me." 

"I can't! I- I don't want to get caught-- oh, Captain..." His words were strained. It was clear he was holding back all sorts of delicious little noises. 

"Well, then I suppose i’ll have to force them out of you." 

James knew they'd be fine. He had shoved it loads of times with Francis in closets all around the ship. If Francis's clumsy humping never got them caught, a few squeaks from the doctor was no problem. 

He ducked in and rolled his tongue slowly over the head of Harry's cock. Harry gasped and covered his mouth with one of his hands. James stared up at Harry, waiting for him to look back down at him. When their eyes locked, James quickly closed his lips around Harry's tip, lightly sucking and massaging it with his tongue. the doctor threw his head back, bumping it on the crates behind him. He groaned deep in his throat; a short, choked sound that told James he was doing well. He began taking more and more of Harry into his mouth, stopping occasionally to tighten his lips or roll his tongue. He took the hand off of his base and gripped his left thigh, squeezing the soft white flesh in an attempt to steady himself. With his other hand, he cradled Harry's balls. He rubbed his thumb over one of them, causing harry to buck up into his mouth. James made a sudden gurgle as Harry's cock poked the back of his mouth.

"S-sorry! Oh.." Harry reached down and placed a hand on James's head. There was no force, it was just a gentle pet. 

"Ahh..." Harry moaned as James took Harry into his throat. He reached his base, his nose gently nestled into Harry's dark hair. He swallowed reflexively, everything suddenly tightening around harry. 

"Oh.. f-fuck!" He cursed. The obscenity seemed so out of place, coming from Harry. It made his own cock twitch in appreciation. 

He began to bob his head, filling the closet with a gentle but powerfully erotic slurping. Harry closed his eyes and felt himself begin to let go. He let out tiny hiccups moans, a short "A-ah!" Here or a fragment of "captain" there. His grip on James hair tightened as he moved. He swallowed down a long moan and gasped at James's maneuvers. He felt a familiar buildup inside of him. His moans began to grow in volume, each one making harry cross his eyes and throw his head back. 

"I-I'm close! Captain!" 

James bobbed faster, gently squeezed Harry's balls and utilized his tongue as much as he could. 

"I- I'm!! Fuck! " he cried out a chorus of high pitched wails as he came thick into James's throat. In a final erotic power move, James firmly swallowed down every drop of Harry's cum, still staring up at Harry's face. 

Harry's breathing slowed but his eyes were still closed. His head fell back once more. He gathered himself and straightened out. 

As he bent down to pull his briefs up, James caught him with a kiss. Harry pulled off quickly, not wanting to know what kind of taste his cock left in James's mouth. Once all of his clothes were back on, it was as if it never happened. That is, except for Harry's flushed face and lidded eyes. 

"Did you enjoy that, darling?" James took Harry's hand. Harry nodded tiredly.

"Good. I expect you return the favor someday." James smirked and patted Harry’s head before swiftly turning and slipping unnoticed out of the closet.


	2. Collins/Goodsir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in the magic Fan Fiction realm where somehow either no one else on the ship hears them or cares.

Harry nestled his head into the soft pillows. He lay on his back, his hips propped up comfortably. He watched as his lover stroked himself to life. Collins effectively fucked his slicked hand, biting the inside of his cheek and grunting quietly. Goodsir ran his fingers through his chest hair as he waited for collins.   
“I’m sure that will be enough” Goodsir assured collins as he reached for more grease. Collins relaxed his worried eyebrows.   
“I-I just don’t want to hurt you, doll.” Collins gruff voice softened in times like these.

“I told you, you won’t hurt me.” Goodsir felt a little awkward consoling someone in this position, His half-hard cock laying displayed on his stomach. “And if you do, I’ll tell you.”    
“You promise?” Collins shifted closer to Harry, gripping his thighs and hooking his legs over his broad shoulders.   
“Of course.”   
Collins smiled and leaned in, grabbing Goodsir’s hips.    
“I! - I think it would be better if you- you started with your … your fingers first.” Harry blurted, laughing nervously “You are quite... girthy.”

Collins looked up at Harry and snorted. “I s’pose you’re right.” Goodsir didn’t know which statement Collins was agreeing to. 

Collins used the hand he slicked his prick with to rub teasingly at Harry’s hole. Harry squeezed Collins’ shoulder with his legs. Harry sighed quietly and fluttered his eyes closed as Collins pushed the first finger in. He’d known Collin’s fingers were larger than his own, larger than most men's, but the physical truth of it was more than he’d expected. He clenched around it helplessly, whimpering a high-pitched moan. He began sliding the finger in and out, making harry squirm.   
“Is this alright?”   
Goodsir hummed in response “Put in another.” Goodsir felt squeamish about saying anything erotic. “W… work me open.”

Collins thick fingers made his back arch. He pushed into Harry’s prostate, making him gasp and tighten. Collins pulled a devilish smile and curled his fingers, pushing purposefully into Harry’s sweet spot. Moans erupted from Harry's throat as his prostate was massaged like he’d never felt before. The deep, electrifying comfort made Harry’s eyes cross. His cock grew harder, dripping precum onto his fuzzy stomach. If this was enough to make his eyes crossed, Harry couldn’t imagine how good Collins’s prick would feel inside of him. He shook the dirty thought from his head. Ironic that even in the near act itself, Harry shied away from any sexual thoughts. It was a rather depressing instinct.

“I-I’m ready, Collins.” He breathed. 

“For what?” Collins smirked and raised an eyebrow. He watched Harry's face heat up. The sight of Goodsir squirming and shy always turned Collins on.

“F-for your--” He covered his face with his hands. “Oh, I can’t! It’s too dirty...”

Collins snorted. “It’s small talk compared to some of the things I’ve wanted to hear you say.”

“I still can’t say it.”

“You will,” His voice went back to its gruff purr. “All you’ve got to say is ‘Fuck me’.”   
Harry whined. Collins pushed in a third finger.   
“I’ll make you beg for my cock if you don’t.” Collins nearly growled. He pushed his fingers deeper inside of harry, pressing his knuckles into where he shouldn’t. Harry writhed and mewled under him.

“F-fuck… fuck me.” Harry closed his eyes and muttered the phrase.   
“What was that, love?” Collins teased.   
“I-I said fuck me!” It was somewhat liberating to say the licentious phrase, even if it made his face burn. Collins pulled his fingers out of Harry and aligned his prick to Harry’s entrance.   
“Please…” Harry tacked on.   
“Well,” Collins squeezed Harry’s thigh “If you insist.” Harry smiled; Collins had a sharp wit hiding behind all of his initial buzzing anxieties.

Both men let out a breath of bliss as Collins pushed in. He barely made it all the way to the base before he had to shudder to a stop, his fingers digging into Goodsir’s legs. Goodsir was perfect around him. Harry gripped the sheet and bit his lip as he accepted Collins’ length, emitting a strained groan. 

“Is it alright?” Collins resumed the push to his hilt, fitting his entirety into goodsir. He watched as Goodsir eased into it, his face unscrewing and his muscles relaxing. He nodded, his eyes still shut tight.   
“It’s good,” Harry breathed. “You’re--  You’re very good.” 

Collins thrusts began slowly and steadily increased. He occasionally looked back to Harry to make sure his lover wasn’t in visual discomfort. As much as Collins trusted Goodsir, He knew that the shy doctor had a tendency to struggle when expressing his feelings. Collins didn’t know how else to tell him that Harry’s comfort is more important than his personal pleasure 

“I want-” He bleated. “I want you to go faster. P-please.” Goodsirs quiet words sent a small wave of sensation over Collins’ body.    
“You want me to pound you, darling?” His voice was strangely sincere. Yes, in fact, He did want collins to pound him.    
“Mmmh,” Harry moaned in response. “W-would it be better if I were on my stomach?”    
He squirmed as Collins pulled out. Of course, he saw the complications of trying to flip over with him still inside, but he wasn’t ready for the full sensation to leave.

 

Harry leaned his head on his elbows and stuck his ass into the air. Collins caged him in, placing a large hand on his right shoulder and the other on his hip. 

  
This was the fucking that Collins was used to. Rough and dirty, both men usually just desperate to get off and then act as if it never happened. Tonight was different; He wanted to express his sincerity with Harry.

He pushed in fast and hard. Harry gasped audibly and arched his back, his mouth still silently hanging open.

“Ready?”   
“Goodness, Collins!” Harry blurted. “I’ve had enough reassurance, I’m not made of porcelain!”   
Collins laughed in response and began his rhythm. Harry gripped the pillow as Collins kicked up faster, pumping into his ass with a force that scrambled Harry’s thoughts a little. Harry learned very quickly that he quite liked being manhandled; The feeling of a strong hand on his shoulder pulling him back and  muscular hips pushing him forward edged Harry ever closer. Collins pounded so fast that Harry’s wanton moans couldn't keep up. The sound was so foreign in his own ears. His belted breaths and desperate whines flew out so carelessly that he realized he could not cease them. Even when he closed his mouth to swallow, The sounds boiled up in Harry’s throat. The room was filled with His moans, Collins’ gentle grunting and the erotic sound of connecting flesh.   
“You slay me, mister Collins--” He managed to spill out. “T-truly.” 

Harry reached down to stroke at his own prick, pushing the sensation to a melting point. Collins fucked the stars into Harry’s eyes and Harry desperately needed it.

Collins felt himself nearing the edge, shifting to fuck Harry deeper and slower. He placed his hands on either side of Goodsir’s ass and thrusted good and hard, Biting his lip and tossing his hair back.    
“A-Are you close?”   
“Yes-” Goodsir moaned “Gods yes.”

Collins thrusting grew rapid, his desperate release building torturously in his hips.   
“Say it,” Collins groaned. It was a risk to try and squeeze something dirty out of harry this late in the game, but he knew it would pay off if it worked. “Tell me to cum inside you.”

“A-ah! C.. fuck..” Harry did not want to dissappoint collins. “Cum inside me, mister co- mister Collins!” He came as he moaned out the filthy words, semen splattering on his stomach and the sheets below.

Collins eyes rolled back in his head as he thrust a final time, releasing deep inside of Harry. He twitched and throbbed through his orgasm, letting out one long, deep moan. 

Harry’s panting slowed as he came down from his high, wiping the cum from his hand onto his thigh. 

Collins pulled out gingerly and harry shifted to lie once more on his back. He exclaimed quietly as his back made contact with the sticky spot on the sheets. He will have to change these soiled sheets as soon as possible. Harry was too tired at the moment; his body felt loose and wrung out and his hips still felt the hot buzz of their act. 

It was only then that he realized Collins had gotten out of the bed. He stood buck naked in the infirmary looking for anything to clean harry off with .

“Second cupboard on the bottom, love.” He told Collins. His throat was sore just from moaning. 

He admired collins’ body as he knelt to open the cabinet. He was thick and muscular all around with a comfortable layer of softness on his belly and legs. Wooly dark hair like the thick fuzz on his cheeks covered his chest and the front of his hips. He had many little nicks and scars all over his worked body that harry liked to run his fingers over and inquire about where he got them. The long scar over the right side of Collins’ ribs had a different story every time, but Harry was entertained every time.

Collins took out a small washcloth and walked to Harry's side, sitting on the bed next to him.

“Thank you, darling.” Harry pushed the cloth and cleaned the mess on his stomach and legs. 

“For the towel or the pounding?” Collins smiled down at Harry. 

“The towel mostly,” Harry joked. “although the thorough fucking was nice, I suppose.” 

“Oh, so now you can say it?” 

“Mmh. I'm too tired to regret it right now, I'm sure i'll wake tomorrow riddled with shame.” 

“Oh, Don't say that.” Collins stroked Harry’s cheek. “Your words are pure honey.” 

Collins pulled the covers out from under Goodsir’s body and shifted to lay next to him, pulling the covers over both of them. He kissed the back of harry’s neck softly and dozed off to sleep. 


	3. Crozier/Fitzjames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't choose between hate sex, frottage or some tasteful 69 so. A bit of all of it

“Jopson, will you leave us, please?” James’s voice was the last thing Francis wanted to hear right now. He opened his eyes and shook the drunk fuzz from his sleepy mind, trying to look at least a little presentable. He scooted to sit up in his chair and planted his feet on the ground.   
“Francis,” The tall shape entered his vision.  
“Who gave you the right to dismiss my steward?” He tried his best not to slur.  
Jopson stopped in his tracks and froze in position. James turned to glare and Jopson skittered out. James ignored his question.   
“You haven’t even left this room yet, have you? Y-”  
“Are you really going to sit there and berate me like you’re me mam, James?”  
“Yes! Yes I am! Because frankly, Francis,” James slammed his hands down on Francis’s knees and stood inches from his face, sneering at his pungent whiskey breath “It stuns me. This- this lack of dedication. I suppose you sit here and listen to yourself saying all this, but you need to hear it from someone with sense.”  
Francis snorted a laugh.  
“I order you to get your flabby, miserable arse out of this chair and act like a damn captain for god's sake, or don't even bother getting dressed!”  
“Who are you to order me around? You prissy little shite.” He spat. James had daggers in his eyes as he stood back up, staring pitifully down at Francis.  
“Who am I? I am James Fitzjames, captain of-”  
“Captain!” Francis roared “Ever since Sir John’s bollocks left your chin you’ve been calling yourself that. It’s petulant. Truly.”  
James’s lip twitched with fury. He felt an urge build in his body, the tiger crouching behind his eyes, waiting for Francis to open his mouth once more.   
Francis pulled a smile and squinted, “I’ve been waiting to say that o-” An instant later, Francis felt his neck jerk as James cracked the back of his hand across Francis’ face.   
“Jaysus!”  
A hot, pink mark bloomed on his cheek. He touched it gingerly before turning in his chair. He locked his eyes on James’ face and gripped the arms of his chair, thrusting to lunge at James.

Francis remembered quite how drunk he was as James crashed into Francis’ body, immediately pushing him back against the table. Francis’ back bent uncomfortably as James boxed him in, One hand gripping at his collar and another slammed next to his head. Francis pushed at James’ chest and kicked aimlessly, trying to get the taller man off of him. James snorted  
“Is that all you've got, old Moira?” He hissed into his ear “Would you like me to call Jopson in to help you?”  
Francis growled at the demoralizing nickname. It was funny when Blanky said it, but considering who’s mouth it was spat from, it burned his scalp with hate. He widened his eyes and came to his last resort.   
Francis pushed full steam upwards, planted his feet on the ground, hands on James’ hips and smashed his forehead against James, causing lights to flash in both mens eyes.  
James cried out and stumbled back, caught by Francis’s hands. They left the table and stumbled dizzy until they hit the opposite wall, Francis pressing his entire body to push James against the wood.   
The direct contact revealed what both men already expected. Francis leaned back, hips still crushed against James, looking down at where they connected. James huffed out a laugh, still sneering.   
“I’m honestly stunned you can still get it up, you old whore” James bit  
“You young whore” Francis spat back. It wasn’t the cleverest comeback, but it did the job.

Their lips met with as much vigor as their fight. Teeth clacked and noses bent ungracefully as they kissed, licking forcefully into each others mouths. They had done this twice before- each time expecting it to be a one-time event. The reality was settling in that Francis and James might just have to be lovers.

Francis began humping the thigh between his legs, grinding his erection into James’ flesh through layers of clothes. Precum oozed into James’ undergarments as the men rubbed against each other. Francis pulled off of James’ mouth and sucked harshly at his jaw and neck, biting obnoxious marks onto his warm skin. James would protest if the sensation wasn't so good.  
“Francis…” He whispered. “Francis.”  
Francis left the crook of his neck and stared at James  
“I don’t want to ruin these clothes.”  
“Of course you don't.”

\--

 

The bed cabin was not meant for two grown men. It was a stuffy and a little hot, but they couldn't risk leaving the door open.   
This was the first time either had seen the other fully naked. In the first two encounters, the most exposed they came to was James’s pants at his knees. Now, James lay above Francis, mouth on his cock and ass propped in the older mans face. He wound an arm around francis's thigh, pushing his hips to suck his prick at a slight angle.   
Francis leaned his head back and moaned quietly. James was unnaturally good with his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked over James’ butt and thighs, his cock hanging between them. He ought to do something in return, he thought. 

James pulled off and gasped at the sudden feeling of something wet against his ass.   
“F-Francis!” The feeling was repulsive at first. But the more Francis’s tongue rolled and circled against his hole, the more James crossed his eyes and moaned. He went back down to take Francis into his throat, his actions messied by francis’s devilish tongue.   
The slight scruff of his unshaven chin made James’s thighs twitch. Francis continued to eat him out, using one hand to hold him open and the other to rub his thumb into James’s inner thigh.   
James toes curled and he popped off suddenly   
“Francis- god… I-I can't. I need you inside me.”  
The ease at which the dirty words spilled from James’s mouth made Francis moan. He let go of James and scooted his back against the wall. James clambered around to face Francis, his hands pressed onto his chest. He lifted his hips to sit on Francis’s cock.  
“W-wait, aren't you going to- oh Christ--” francis’s eyes rolled back as James fit his erection in, sliding down his barely spit-slicked prick to sit on his hips. James’s hole was hot and tight, causing Francis to clench his eyes shut and focus on not cumming right then and there.  
He opened his eyes to the sight of James adjusting around his prick. His eyes were closed and his mouth hung open, quiet moans rolling off of his tongue. Francis lifted a hand to squeeze at James’s hips.

James began his rhythm. He started by rolling his hips in a slow circle, riding Francis slow and hard. His moans gained in volume as Francis joined in, occasionally bucking up into James. His precise circles began to devolve into hurried bouncing, steadying his hands on either side of Francis body and thoroughly fucking himself on his prick, sitting on his knees and pushing his ass backwards.  
“Fuck, Francis.. Fuck.. Fuck..” James moaned, his screwed up face sporting a heavy blush. Francis cursed back as he moaned, nearing his limit.   
“I-I'm close, James.” He groaned out. James moved a hand to roughly stroke his cock, his thrusting hips growing faster and more desperate. His moans reached a wanton octave as he straightened his back, fucking his hand and riding Francis so hard Francis couldn't focus.   
“Christ, James! Aah--” his eyes rolled back a final time and he let out a throaty groan as he came, James riding him through his orgasm.  
James clenched around Francis’s overstimulated cock as he released. Three thick splatters hit Francis’s stomach. His thighs twitched as he dismounted Francis, humming out leftover sighs and moans of bliss.   
James began to dress again. Francis felt an awkwardness building as he still sat bare on his bed.  
“You realise, James, That I’m definitely not leaving this room now.” He joked, tiredly. He felt a pang of tired guilt at the things he spat towards him hours earlier.  
“I’m sorry I called you a cocksucker.”  
James laughed “After I’ve just sucked your cock?”  
“You are a cocksucker, I’m just sorry I used it against you.”  
“I’m not sorry for calling you flabby and miserable. I wish you’d get out of this pit so I don’t have to work for both ships.”  
Francis rolled his eyes and pulled the sheet to cover himself. He rolled onto his side and left James to get dressed.  
He heard James tap his fingers at the door frame  
“Have.. Have a good night, Francis.” James’s tenderness felt strange. Francis grunted in response, trying to hide the smile on his face. It was nice to hear words of warmth from someone after so long.  
“Send Jopson in, will you?”   
He heard James sigh and walk across the cabin, the sounds of his boots against the creaking wood quieting with every step.


End file.
